


Sunrise Through Gardenias

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, haruka's an artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1767313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto would do anything to preserve that smile. More than "as long as he's happy, I'm happy", Makoto wished to catch a glimpse of that smile one more time.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1314550">Sunset Under Bluebells</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise Through Gardenias

**Author's Note:**

> It took a long time to get to it, but now that the semester is over, I finally had time for this, hhhh. It's my hope that after all the positive feedback and encouragement from "Sunset Under Bluebells", that this won't fall short of expectations. So please enjoy!
> 
> I've used gardenias before in a MakoHaru fic, but just in case you didn't read it, gardenias in the Japanese flower language mean "secret love".

Haruka was already walking off towards the street when Makoto stopped to wave at Nagisa and Rei. More like Makoto went to stand off to the side as Nagisa dragged Rei through the crowd. It was hard for Makoto to not laugh, even though he felt a little bad for his underclassman. 

"Hey, Mako-chan, where is Haru-chan going?" Nagisa asked, standing on tip-toe to take a look at Haruka's vanishing form.

"He needs to restock on some paint so he's going to the art supply store," Makoto explained.

Rei snatched his arm back from Nagisa, huffing as he pushed his glasses up. "For his paintings? Shouldn't the art club supply all the materials?"

Shaking his head, Makoto said with a smile, "It's not for club. He's been working on something or another, even when he tells me there's no show or anything going on. So the supplies is probably just for himself." It made him happy to know that despite how disinterested Haruka was about art club at first, he now enjoyed it enough to do it during his leisure time. Now his friend wouldn't be upset to not swim during the off season, though Makoto was fairly certain water would always be Haruka's number one. 

"He probably paints water a lot, huh? It seems like the obvious subject matter," Nagisa said with a knowing grin.

Well, Makoto couldn't deny that. He had stolen some glances at the canvas when he went to Haruka's house. "Something like that."

"Were you going with him, Makoto-senpai?"

"Ah, yes. I was hoping he'd stay to at least greet you guys, but..." He rubbed the back of his neck, as if to apologize on Haruka's behalf.

Nagisa waved him off. "Go, go then, you know Haru-chan gets into trouble without you there!"

"I don't know about that," laughed Makoto. He started off then, waving back at his friends. "We'll see you both tomorrow!"

"Bye, Mako-chan!"

"Have a pleasant evening, Makoto-senpai!"

Weaving in between the thinning crowd, Makoto didn't take long in catching up to Haruka. His slow stride was no match against Makoto's longer legs. Makoto began walking at Haruka's side as if he'd been there all along, and his friend didn't comment on it.

"Are you in a hurry, Haru?" Makoto asked with a small laugh.

Instead of answering, Haruka took a sudden turn to another street, and Makoto scrambled to not lose him.

"Already know where you're going? Have you been to this store before?" Even though he was still talking out loud, Makoto only ever expected Haruka to answer him about ten percent of the time. Nevertheless, there was still a relaxed air between them that said despite Haruka's silence, he was listening, and Makoto was certainly talking to him and not at him.

The store was a little further into town, but that was alright. Makoto didn't mind walking around if it meant he could spend time with his best friend. 

When they finally made it, Haruka continued navigating around without a single pause or sign of hesitation. So he has been here often, Makoto thought. He smiled, picking up a basket before he followed  Haruka through aisles of various art supplies. Makoto never realized there could be so many kinds of mediums, and types of them. Well, he was never very artistic to begin with, and admired Haruka all the more for being so talented. 

The whole place smelled of cinnamon, and soft pop music played overhead. It was strangely relaxing. Haruka had stopped and was looking at some paints lined up in chromatic order.

"Good afternoon! May I help you two with anything?" A girl in the store's red apron had popped into the aisle, smiling cordially at them.

With Haruka engrossed in his shopping, Makoto waved her off politely. "No, thank you! We'll be sure to call if we do."

Nodding, the girl continued along. 

"Haru, I got a basket," Makoto said, holding it out. 

Haruka gave it a glance, cheeks turning pink, obviously embarrassed that he had forgotten it. Makoto chuckled to reassure him, and one by one, Haruka plopped paint and some new brushes into his basket. All throughout the store and checkout, and even the walk home, Makoto couldn't stop the warm feeling from spreading in his chest. Nagisa had asked the other day if Makoto had received the email he had sent. Makoto actually got several emails from Nagisa that week (though he supposed he was better off than Rei), but he knew automatically which one he meant.

Ever since he had gotten it, Makoto pretended he didn't care about it as much as he did. He did not think of that photo on a daily basis. He most certainly didn't save it and look at it until some external force snapped him out of it. He most certainly wasn't attached to Haruka's hip in the hopes of somehow catching a glimpse of that expression again. And really, Makoto tried not to seem over ecstatic when Haruka allowed him to go to the art supply store with him. 

No matter that Makoto was basically back to his childhood habit of following Haruka like a chick, there was still no sign of that same smile he had seen in the picture. 

Well, that was probably okay. He didn't expect it to become a normal expression of Haruka's or anything; if his best friend just threw around smiles like that any old time, they wouldn't be as special. Makoto should just consider it lucky Nagisa had gotten that moment on camera at all.

"Were you coming over?" Haruka asked when they reached the point they separated.

Makoto hadn't considered it, but if Haruka was asking... He smiled. "I have time before dinner, so if it's alright for me to intrude..."

"It's fine."

"I'll send a message to my mom then."

Inside Haruka's house, Makoto took off his shoes and watched Haruka wonder into his room, presumably to put up his supplies. Plopping his bag right next to Haruka's, he sat in the living room politely. No matter how much he usually barged in anyway most mornings, Makoto always felt slightly intrusive inside Haruka's house.

Haruka popped his head in the living room, tie already undone and brows furrowed. "What are you doing in here?" Not waiting for an answer, he said, "Get in my room."

Holding back a self-conscious laugh, Makoto followed after. Haruka was already undressing again, tossing off his pants to leave him in his swim suit. Makoto sighed, both at Haruka just tossing his clothes and the sight of him in his suit.

"Here." Haruka gave him some clothes from inside his drawer. Makoto instantly recognized the shorts he had been looking for, but couldn't bring himself to chastise Haruka for keeping his clothes again.

"I'm going to borrow the bathroom."

Haruka gave him a slightly irritated look again. "What for? Don't we undress in front of each other all the time?"

Makoto tried not to pout. "Well, yeah, but still... I'm going to borrow the bathroom." He inched out the room and into the one down the hall. He was confident that even if Haruka's house was engulfed in darkness, he'd be able to find his way to the bathroom with no hesitation, given how often he found Haruka in there.

After changing, school clothes folded neatly in his arms, Makoto left the bathroom. He was thinking maybe he should ask Haruka if they should go over history later since, as usual, his best friend had been daydreaming during class, when his eyes landed on the room next to Haruka's. As he knew it, the room was usually an office space, but now it was mostly storage. The door was ajar, and Makoto thought he saw the glimpse of a canvas inside.

Curious and slightly excited, Makoto glanced towards Haruka's room before stepping into the storage space. Inside it was a bunch of boxes, a dusty desk, some shelves of random books... The room looked like it was used recently though. Makoto knew by the sight of the easel that it was Haruka.

The canvas on the easel was blank, but there were several covered paintings propped around the room. Judging from the ribbons beneath three of them, Makoto guessed that these were finished pieces that Haruka did for club. He had never been to one of Haruka's shows before, mostly because they weren't publicly open events, but he never knew what they were like for Haruka. His friend never talked about them, and he most definitely hadn't brought up that he placed in them.

Makoto lifted up the paper covering one of the paintings just enough to see Haruka's second place ribbon. "Amazing...!" he said under his breath, a surge of pride and awe filling his chest.

Why hadn't Haruka said anything? Was painting just like swimming in that Haruka never cared about placing? Makoto wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, but still. They all celebrated Rei for placing first in his math decathalon the other week, so Makoto wanted Haruka to feel proud of his accomplishments too and share them with his friends.

Still holding the paper cover, Makoto thought about taking a peek at the piece itself, but... No, he couldn't do that. Coming into the room was bad enough, but he couldn't look at any of Haruka's paintings if his friend didn't want him to. It was a bit different than watching Haruka swim out in the open. The paintings were covered and never shown. Of course it was a shame not to share them, but maybe if Makoto brought up the subject...

Inspired by the idea, Makoto straightened up and turned to see Haruka standing there in the doorway, shorts and yet another oen of Makoto's shirts on.

Shame warmed Makoto's cheeks. "H-Haru! You scared me!"

"What are you doing in here?" It didn't sound very accusing, but Makoto knew he was still in trouble.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, Haru-chan. But I got curious so I came in."

Haruka's eyes glanced somewhere behind Makoto. "That's fine," he finally said, shrugging slightly.

Relieved, Makoto exhaled. "Haru." When his friend's attention returned to him, he said, "Why do you keep your paintings away like this? Me and everyone get really curious about it, you know. That is, I knew you were good at drawing, but to have placed in something... Don't you want to show everyone?"

"Not really," came Haruka's deadpan response. "What the art club members see is already unnecessary."

"Still, you worked on it..."

Haruka tilted his head a bit, considering. He shrugged again. "Fine. If you wanna look at them, you can." There was still indifference in his tone, but he took a seat at his stool and watched Makoto. Could it be he was interested in Makoto's reactions after all?

Excited again, Makoto picked up the first painting.

He knew Nagisa had been right in his hunch that Haruka painted waterscapes, but it amazed even Makoto to see all the detail - the gleam of sun or moonshine, the flow of water, the different swirls of blue... It was all incredible. Some of the subject matter did differ though, and Makoto supposed those were the assignments given in club. Those didn't have any less brilliance and attention to detail to them however.

 _As I thought, Haru does like painting after all_. He couldn't stop praising Haruka, and his best friend squirmed a bit in his seat, looking away.

"You really should show these to the others."

"I've only really shown Grandma," Haruka said. "She painted as a hobby herself, so I thought it would be alright." He looked down at his hands as he said it, but Makoto took his words very seriously.

Now that he thought about it, when had Haruka gone out to buy an easel? Makoto wondered if it had been Haruka's grandmother's, and he asked Haruka. He got a short nod in response. Makoto smiled a bit, gazing at the easel, his eyes then catching another covered canvas behind it.

It was isolated from the others, and it was a wonder how he hadn't noticed it sooner with the afternoon light streaming from the window right on it. Haruka noticed Makoto staring and followed his gaze, making a small surprised sound.

"Hmm? Which is this one, Haru-chan? It has a ribbon under it too."

"That's-!" Haruka got up abruptly, but stumbled over his stool in the process. Makoto caught him, holding Haruka tightly.

"H-Haru, are you okay?"

"Y...eah." Haruka righted himself, gently pushing out of Makoto's embrace. His attention went right back to the other painting. "That one is something else for club. It was for a certain theme."

Smiling, Makoto asked, "Can I see that one too?" He expected Haruka to say he could do what he wanted again, and already had the painting in his hands.

But his friend didn't answer right away. When he looked at Haruka, he was rooted to the spot, staring right at Makoto. It unnerved him slightly, but it also gave him all the prompting he needed.

The paper curled back with a crinkle, and Makoto looked down at the piece. It had water in it, Haruka's specialty. It looked like the edge of some body of water like a river or lake. Flowers grew in abundance, darker and more vibrant shades of blue. They fell over a person's face, mystriously hiding most of it, but a smile curved on their lips. Makoto wasn't an artist, but if he had to describe it, it was sort of a serenely happy smile, like the person was completely captivated in a particular happiness.

Or maybe he had been reading way too many romance novels that his classmate wouldn't stop lending him.

"The theme was a beautiful face," came Haruka's voice, still standing in the same place.

"This is...a man?" Makoto tilted his head, studying the short mess of brown hair and Adam's apple. The hand dipping into the calm water was broad and manly.

Haruka took an audible breath. "It's you."

Makoto blinked. That was...? He looked up to Haruka, who was shuffling his feet and tugging at Makoto's shirt. It looked like he wanted to run away, and the only thing tethering him there was Makoto's stunned silence.

"Me?" he whispered. Glancing back down at the canvas, he studied the person, him, closer.

Haruka went up beside him. He didn't say anything as Makoto's fingers traced the water and flower petals. Haruka had painted him? He was a beautiful face to him? Why? Was that normal? He almost wanted to laugh at that. Of course Haruka wasn't in the mindset of what was normal or not. Maybe he was overthinking.

So why was his face burning?

What was with the atmosphere between them?

Makoto glanced back to Haruka, and nearly dropped the painting. His friend's gaze was on the painting, his blue eyes warm and on his pretty lips - when did he think that? - was a smile. Even though he had only had a single incident of it, Makoto had memorized that smile.

"Haru..."

"Sorry. Do you mind it?"

"Mind what?" Their voices felt far away to Makoto, his eyes on Haruka's mouth.

"That I painted a 'beautiful face' with you in mind?"

"Wh-why me?"

Haruka's cheeks colored slightly. He was silent for a long time, and as much as Makoto wished to say something, his own mind could only go in endless circuits. Him? Haruka painted him? Why him and not some girl? As if to answer most of his questions, Haruka finally said, "I couldn't think of anyone else. Nothing real or fake compared." He gave Makoto a sharp look. "There was no question about it, once I settled on painting your smile."

"S-smile?" Makoto's heart thudded. That was...really embarrassing to hear. Makoto didn't see how his smile was interesting, but less how Haruka could ever find it interesting. Wait. Did that mean Haruka paid attention to him smiling? When? What times? 

Was it enough to make Haruka smile like that? Makoto had seen his friend paint a little bit before, caught him in the middle of work and such, and yet Haruka's expression was calm at best. It never compared to the content bliss of when he swam, but it was something. And yet, by painting Makoto, Haruka had gotten such a beautiful expression on his face? 

"I pay attention to the looks you make," Haruka said, gently taking the painting from Makoto. "It's how I know what is painful for you. How I know when you're serious. How I know when your smile is just polite like usual, or if you're really having fun." He gazed at the painting with dreamy eyes. "That's why I chose this one. It's the most beautiful and true of Makoto's smiles. And," he glanced up, "you make it when you think I'm not paying attention."

"Huh?" Makoto's voice had gotten a little high. The heat in his cheeks had crawled down his neck and chest, making his shirt feel confining. 

Somehow, Haruka looked dissatisfied with Makoto's reaction, and put the painting in a different corner, covering it again. He got the impression that his friend was ending the conversation. Makoto's chest clenched. If he didn't say something now, he had a feeling he would never see that smile again. Just as Haruka made to leave the room, Makoto all but shouted, "The only reason it's when you're not looking is because-" _No, don't say that. Don't impose it on Haru. It'll ruin everything, don't do it_. The thoughts shoved inside Makoto's mind automatically after years of habit.

"You," said Makoto weakly, the passion choked out of his voice. All that was left was the desperation, and ashes from being unable to say Haruka's name the way he wanted to for so long. 

Haruka lingered. He stared mercilessly at Makoto, who looked away and tried to remember how to breathe. "Makoto." Haruka's voice was the only sound in the world save for the rushing of blood in Makoto's ears. "Do you like me?"

 _No, you don't. Don't impose it. Don't. Smile. Smile_.

" _I pay attention to the looks you make_."

 _I can't. Not when I know he'll know_.

Makoto's voice was still quiet, almost a whisper. "Yes. I like you, Haru. I like you a lot." 

"Mm. Good." The words didn't come out in Haruka's usually terse way, full of only impassiveness. They were barely words, but Haruka's voice was so warm. Makoto felt his body heat up again from just the sound. Still looking down, he found Haruka's feet enter his field of vision. When Makoto looked up, Haruka's lips were spread in that same smile in the picture Nagisa sent. 

_Aah, I feel so lucky. I've gotten to see it again._

"It's good?" Makoto said dumbly. 

Haruka's breath was softly blowing on his lips. "Yes. Good. Because I like..." His cheeks reddened, but Makoto knew Haruka had said much more than enough. His hands caressed his friend's hips, and Haruka leaned up to capture Makoto's lips in a chaste kiss.

Both of them were smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> I love my babies. I hope this was enjoyable to read, and thank you to everyone who waited so patiently! *bows profusely*
> 
> (In case anyone is wondering, Haruka didn't place per se on that painting, but got the ribbon for best use of watercolor.)


End file.
